the past
by momoa
Summary: she can't forget the past. he wants to help. pls review!
1. Save Her

She stepped into the shower, shivering slightly as the chilly air bit into her skin. She turned on the water; frowning, annoyed, as warm water touched her body. Turning it to hot, she sighed contentedly as the water spilled over her shivering body. The heat of the water was so intense that the skin on her neck turned pink and her skin tingled unpleasantly. She reached for the soap, squeezed out a glob and massaged it onto her body. Unsatisfied, she used her nails to scrap away the filth she saw on her skin. She groaned slightly at the stinging but smiled as she felt the grime being rid from her body. Droplets of red liquid fell from her fingers and mixed with the water pooling at her feet. She smirked at the irony and dug her nails deeper. Moaning at the sharp pain, she took a deep breath and did it again and again. The water sliding off her body turned pink and then steadily turned red as more blood and anguish was released from her trembling body.

He heard her sharp intake of breath as she mutilated her own body in the shower. Shaking his head in disgust, he got off the bed and slowly and stealthily walked to the bathroom. He watched as the water slipping into the drain became bloodier and bloodier before he barged in and wrenched her out, dripping wet, a sadistic smile on her face as she watched herself bleed. Wrapping a towel around her, he gently led her to the bed he had so recently vacated and sat her down. The glazed look on her face was ebbing away slowly and the dull, lifeless look in her eyes returned. He knelt down next to her and took out his wand; softly chanted healing charms which stitched her skin back together, stemming the blood flow. When this was done, he sat back and took in her small frame. Old scars grazed her skin and fresh ones stood out, pink and defiant.

Tears leaked out of his eyes. She watched him watching her with tears falling to his lap and did nothing. Her wet hair left a trail of water down her back that made her fell cold and uncomfortable and still she did nothing. It was as though she were entranced by his silver eyes, at times so piercing and accusing, but now swimming in tears and filled with emotion. She knew he was hurting but was helpless to aid him when she herself needed to be saved.

His hand clenched tightly, so hard that his knuckles turned white with the effort. _Why?_ he asked himself. _I've tried. I've tried so many times. So many ways. Can she never forget her past? Will she never how I care for her? Why won't she stop?_

Suddenly she stood and dashed to the door. He raised a hand the door slammed shut. Fire burned in his silver eyes, making them turn into the colour of stormy skies. He stood up slowly and walked over to her as she frantically tried to open the door. Her tired body gave up suddenly and she slumped against the door she was so desperately trying to get past. She felt his arms envelop her waist and felt him pick her up easily, then laying her on the bed once again. She shivered slightly and drew away when his skin accidentally brushed against hers. Biting her lip, she drifted to sleep, barely noticing that she was drawing blood.

He watched as she shifted uncomfortably under the sheets, her nightmares returning once again. With massive effort, he rose from the floor and walked into the shower once again. Stripping quickly, he stepped into the shower and shuddered involuntarily when he saw dried flecks of blood on the floor.

Turning on the shower, he grunted as the hot water cascaded down his back. He turned it back to warm and watched through partially closed eyes as the soothing water gently trailed down his skin. He gently massaged some sweet smelling soap onto his skin, letting his fingertips linger over the slight scars she had inflicted upon him over the past few months. As he breathed in the warm air, he didn't notice his tears mixing with the water. He didn't taste the saltiness of the combined two. He didn't notice her standing at the entrance, watching him.

………………………………………………………………….

The war was going on in full force. Spells were flying everywhere, hitting everything and anyone. Trees split down the middle, benches ignited with flames and bodies fell to the ground with soft _thuds_. Her long hair was tied tightly up in a bun so as not to distract her from killing as many fucking Death Eaters as she could. Screams of agony and cries of surprise filled her ears while pictures of friends and enemies' blank and lifeless faces filled her eyes. Suddenly, she heard a shout. Harry. She turned quickly and saw him sprinting towards her. Then she was on the floor, a powerful spell grazing off Harry's equally strong Shield Charm. She looked up and froze. There he was. The man Harry was trying to rid the world of. Voldemort.

'Stay down, Gin.'

I started to protest but his determined profile stopped me. He had to do this, I knew. It was his destiny. There was no way around it. Dumbledore wasn't going to swoop in and save the day anymore. It was now up to Harry.

He climbed off me and stood tall, staring fiercely at Voldemort who was glaring lethally back. The dueling people all around stopped their activities and watched quietly. At the exact same moment, Harry and Voldemort shouted spells at one another. The spells ricocheted off each other, hitting a Death Eater square in the chest and setting a blackened tree on fire. The Death Eaters roared in anger and shot spells at Harry who didn't even try to block them. I screamed silently but as the spells neared him, Voldemort gave a lazy flick and they vanished. Harry knew Voldemort wanted him for himself.

'Why, hello Tom. Nice of you to join us at last. I suppose that last spell really gave you no choice huh?'

'Potter. You cocky little bastard. You are going to pay for this!'

'So shut up and curse me already. Or are you scared?'

I gasped at Harry's boldness. But I also knew that Voldemort was now a mere mortal. Harry had just destroyed his last Horcrux, after tracking Malfoy and Snape down and retrieving the necklace they had stolen from Dumbledore's lifeless body. Snape had died trying to destroy it.

_Ginny._

I blinked confusedly. I thought I had just heard Harry call my name but that was not possible as he was standing right in front of me, taunting Voldemort.

_Ginny, get out of here. Hide. Run. Anything. Just leave this place. Take everyone with you. I love you, Ginny. Please, leave now before anyone realizes anything._

_No_, I breathed. _I can't leave you._

_Please Ginny. It has to end this way. Don't fight me on this. We both knew this was how it's supposed to go. Neither can live while the other survives, remember? Go, or I'll move you myself._

I nodded slowly and blinked back my tears as I felt him send out a last message before I scrambled up to notify the others.

_I love you._

………………………………………………………………….

She sat upright as the image of a blinding flash of light faded from her mind. A gentle hand covered her mouth and it was then she realized that she had been screaming. She twisted away from the comforting hand and pushed off the covers, running to the door again. She tugged at the handle as hard as she could but she knew her efforts were futile.

_Harry. Harry. Come back to me, Harry! You promised! You promised…_

'Ginny.'

_I'm sorry Harry. I shouldn't have left. I could've helped. I'm so sorry._

'Ginny!'

She felt herself being wrenched around by two strong hands. She looked away from his piercing silver eyes.

'Look at me, dammit! It was a dream, Gin. A dream.'

_No, it wasn't._

He enveloped her in a hug and she didn't protest, tears streaming down her face. Finally, he let her go. She walked over to the bathroom and took a deep breath. She looked up at her reflection. Her bottom lip quivered as she took in the sight of her scarred body. She saw the fresh wounds she had inflicted on herself. They were healing rather quickly, thanks to his healing spells. She turned her head slowly, looking for one particular scar. She found it, right behind her right ear.

………………………………………………………………….

'Where's mama dearest now, huh, princess? Aw, that's right, she's dead! Daddy dearest as well huh, princess? What a shame. I would've liked them to watch this.'

Screams filled the poorly lit dungeon. My screams. Then, the pain stopped. I hung limply, suspended against the cold damp wall by thick heavy chains. Cruel laughter rang out through the air.

'No one to save you now, princess! Precious Potter's dead! He's dead! Who's going to save you now?'

_You're wrong. He's not dead. He can't be._

'Answer me you stupid bitch! Who's going to save you now!'

I remained silent in hopes he would just give up and walk away so that I could start crying again. Three days of this torture. Three long days that felt like three years, without any news of her loved ones and if they'd managed to survive this war. Suddenly he was pressed up against me, chest to toe. I resisted the urge to spit in his face and instead pleaded that he let me go so I could help Harry.

'Harry fucking Potter. If you love him so much, I'll help you remember him forever.'

I trembled violently as he pushed himself away from me, his chin in his hand, apparently thinking hard. Then he was back, licking my earlobe as he pushed my matted hair out of the way. Pointing his wand to the pale skin behind my ear, he muttered a spell which I didn't catch despite our closeness. Then I felt blinding pain once again but this time, it was so intense that I couldn't even scream. I felt a stream of blood gush down my neck. He walked away, smirking that trademark smirk, leaving me to bleed.

………………………………………………………………….

She touched the scar and traced it gently, in the shape of a lightning bolt. Turning her head slightly, she saw him watching him solemnly and saw the anger burning in his eyes. The look she associated with pain and suffering. She stepped back slightly, terror written on her face. His expression changed from one of anger to bewilderment then to understanding and sorrow. He turned, leaving her to regain her calmness. She would never forget the past.


	2. Hermione

"So tell me, does anyone know the answer to my next question: What is the antidote for hucklicious tantrum?"

Ginny looked around her expectantly and, as usual, Hermione's hand shot up in the air. Grinning supportively at her, Ginny recited to herself _Kipper fins_ as Hermione said boldly "To overcome the hucklicious tantrum, one should ingest kipper fins."

"Correct!" stated Professor Wylie, smiling at Hermione. "Now who can answer my next question: How would you know if a person is suffering from jambolitous tipitoes?"

_I know this!_ Ginny thought to herself excitedly.

"Ginny, you know this! Tell him!" whispered Hermione under her breath.

Her palms started to sweat as she slowly raised her hand.

"Yes, Ginny?"

"Um, erm… A person suffering from jambolitous tipitoes has incredibly smelly feet and has to endure uncontrollable tapping of their feet."

"Correct! Marvelous, Ginny! Now, on to the next question…"

Sighing with relief, Ginny swiped her palms on her robes. Hermione smiled proudly down at her then turned back to pay attention to Professor Wylie. It was their final examinations and Professor Wylie's way of testing required their full attention. Ten points per answer and a bonus point if you answered his 'special question.' Hermione was dead-set on answering that question and was staring at him through narrowed eyes.

_I passed. I actually freaking passed! I'm a mediwitch!_

Ginny was so preoccupied with her success that she didn't notice her best friend stiffening suddenly. Mentally dancing a little jig, Ginny turned her attention back to Professor Wylie when she noticed a rather damp palm clutching her elbow tightly. Frowning, she turned to Hermione and at last noticed that her friend had gone deathly pale. As she reached out her hand to touch her friend's hand, she heard a sickening crash and then the room seemed to be falling down on them.

Lights, wood, bits of the ceiling, everything, it seemed, were falling down on her. Screams, the sound of running feet…the sound of falling bodies…

Suddenly, she was under the table and immobile. Shocked, she realized that Hermione had forced her under the table and cast a spell on her. In that moment, she had been hit by a rebounding spell.

_Hermione!_ Ginny screamed in her head as she watched her best friend stumble slightly, clutching her chest.

Laughter. Low, cruel, sadistic laughter reached her panic-stricken ears. There was only one person who would laugh like that. With effort, Ginny looked at their assailants. She was right; there was no mistaking that white-blonde hair, that cocky grin, that swagger. And there were his two lug head cronies, flanking his sides as usual. Her blood began to boil as she felt the spell cast upon her weakening. She quieted her mind and with a huge effort, broke through the magic. She was free.

"No," she heard her best friend gasp softly, "hide."

"What did you say, you filth?"

"I said, oh, you're gonna die."

"Why you filthy, weak little twig!"

And with that, he pointed a steady arm towards her and started to speak the words that were so familiar to Ginny's ears. "Avada…"

"Stupefy! Stupefy! Stupefy!"

Two of Ginny's surprise spells hit the two dim witted sloths but the last one flew past the blonde tyrant as he skillfully deflected it.

"Ah, the Weasley girl. What a nice little bonus. Two for one, I must say I'm feeling rather lucky."

"Piss off you piece of shit! C'mon Hermione, c'mon!" And with that, Ginny grabbed Hermione's arm and started sprinting for her life. She ran past the overturned tables, pushed aside the smashed chairs, jumped over the fallen innocents… She had no time for tears, though; he was right on their trail. Ginny realized that Hermione was getting more difficult to pull along. She was clutching her chest and gasping desperately.

"C'mon Herm, just a little bit more. Once we get out of here, we'll be safe. Please stay with me; it's not that much further," she begged.

She heard impatient bangs from right behind her. He was blasting everything in his path in his effort to get to them. Fear clutched her heart as she realized she might not make it out of there. She sent out a silent prayer and sped up, trying to create as many blocks between them as possible without stopping. She stumbled, but picked herself up immediately and kept on going.

Light, she saw light. A sliver of pure sunshine. An opening. They were saved.

Jumping out of the tiny crack in the wall, she thought _Privet Drive!_

A breathless moment later, she was standing outside a normal suburban street with Hermione in tow.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

"4, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey," Ginny gasped out as quietly as she could.

Immediately, the houses numbered 2 and 6 split apart to reveal house number 4. Fastening Hermione's arm around her neck, Ginny strode as quickly as she could to the front door which opened automatically as she reached it. Tiny hands reached out and caught Hermione as she slipped off Ginny's neck and nearly crashed to the floor. Ginny watched helplessly as a number of elves carried Hermione to the nearest room.

Other elves quickly got her a chair and several others ran off to notify the appropriate people. Soon, Ginny found herself surrounded by the remaining members of the Order. Bright pink hair, Tonks; long grizzly hair, Moody; round anxious face, Neville; and long blonde hair, Luna. She heard them all asking her specifics but all she could think of was Hermione's condition. She pushed past them and ran into the room she saw the elves carry her best friend to.

She watched as the mediwizard, the best of the best, leaned over Hermione, tapping her lightly with his wand. He reached where she was clutching, her chest, and then slowly sank onto his knees. Hermione looked him straight in the eye, as though searching for some answer. She saw something that Ginny could not, then closed her eyes slowly. She remained motionless.

Ginny let out a dry sob. The mediwizard turned and stood up. He walked to Ginny's side and guided her to a chair he conjured up. He ran his long fingers through his hair as though searching for the right words as Ginny continued staring at the motionless figure under the covers.

"She's alive, Ginny. But…I'm afraid…for not very much longer…she's…she's been infected."

"How much…"

"Two days, tops."

Ginny looked into the mist coloured eyes for comfort. She saw pain, and understanding; and then she saw nothing.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

She woke up to find a pair of piercing blue eyes staring at her. A shock of familiar red hair framed the worried eyes that were watching her as she slept.

"Hello Ron."

"Are you alright?"

"I'm fine. Where's Hermione?"

"She…she's downstairs…"

"Why aren't you with her?"

"I was with her just now but…but, I wanted to check up on you."

It was then Ginny noticed the tear trails running down her brother's freckled face. The innocence was gone now, like all of them, his eyes slighter colder, his face slightly tighter. She sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed. Pulling on her robe, she shuffled to the door. He jumped up and helped her to open the door. Thanking him softly, she shuffled down the hall, down the stairs and into Hermione's room.

There she lay, pale and so obviously in pain. There he was again, the miracle mediwizard who was powerless against the infection. The infection created by those he so desperately wanted to please before, the infection to destroy all muggle borns. He turned slightly away from his patient at the sound of the door then returned to his work at the glance of red hair.

"Is she alright?"

He jumped, spilling some of the potion he was concocting. Turning a delicate shade of pink, he looked her straight in the eye and shook his head slowly. She nodded curtly, unwilling to look into the eyes of such familiarity and walked to Hermione's side. She gently took Hermione's hand in hers and gave two short squeezes. She felt two weak squeezes in return.

It was then her tears began to fall. Her tears splashed upon their intertwined hands, wetting both of their palms. He looked up in surprise, and then backed away quietly as the other redhead took the ailing girl's hand in his. He watched as the blue-eyed hero kissed his lover's hand, her palm, her face. He looked on as the long haired redhead whispered goodbye to her best friend.

He witnessed the beauty of friendship taken to a whole new level, a level where letting go was a thing to celebrate about, a level where death would not separate their souls. And as he contemplated the possibilities of life, he watched the bittersweet beginning of death. He was not even aware of the tears falling from his eyes.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

Ginny sat up with a start. She looked over at the hunched up figure crouched in a corner of the gloomy room. She saw the figure's shoulders shake slightly, a soft cry emitting from his lips. She got off the bed and walked to him, wrapping her arms around him in an attempt to comfort him. She understood how he felt. Who else would understand the pain of losing everything but she?

She looked into his misty eyes, drowning in the misery she saw in there. Pressing her palm against her lips to prevent her from crying out loud, Ginny stood abruptly and ran into the bathroom where she proceeded to strip and walk into the shower.

_Filth. Get the filth off. Guilt. Get rid of the guilt. Pain. Wash away the pain._

She scrubbed at her skin, willing the pain to subside, willing the guilt of surviving to dissipate, willing the filth she felt on herself to be removed. She had tried this before. He always stopped her. But she knew that he won't now. He won't because he knew she would do it again. He won't because now, he understood how it felt to lose everything. He won't because he did it to himself.

Ginny watched her red hair falling limply by her sides, her skin torn open by her nails, her flesh exposed. Tears welled up in her eyes as the realization hit her.

_No one's going to save me from the past.HErHH_


End file.
